Savin' Me
by BlkRse
Summary: Greg's got a secret. A WB fic
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** _Only a few people are going to understand what's going on for a few chapters so bare with me. All in due time._

"…salad, please."

The waitress finished taking Greg's order and walked away, an extra sway in her step. Not that he was paying attention. The rumble in his stomach was heavy on his mind. That and a certain-

"Hey Greggo." Nick greeted. Sara and Warrick followed behind him.

Greg stood so that Sara could slide in the booth next to him. The waitress returned to take coffee orders. She smiled at Greg again. Again he didn't notice.

"How long you been here?" Warrick asked.

"I don't know." Greg shrugged. "Not very long."

The four discussed their latest case that was closed only a few hours before. Vegas seemed to have an endless supply of random situations that can easily kill someone.

"If we get one more case that includes a scuba tank and a bunny suit, I don't know what I'm going to do." Nick said shaking his head.

Sara laughed. "I think maybe you should just stay away from people in bunny suits altogether."

"You know what?" Nick pointed at her. "You shut up 'cause you weren't helping the situation."

"Aw, you're still mad I didn't pretend to be your girlfriend to get those girls off you?" Sara giggled.

"I'll never get the image of that one bunny holding onto your ankles." Warrick said seriously. "That was sad."

Greg laughed but not at the conversation. He had received a text and failed at stifling a laugh. Looking up from his phone, Greg saw Sara, Warrick and Nick giving him a strange look.

"What?" he asked.

"Care to share, Greg?" Sara asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No, not really."

Their orders arrived and silence fell over them as the waitress placed a salad in front of Greg. Not realizing that he was being stared at, he rubbed his hands together and speared some lettuce with his fork. A good five minutes went by before he looked up again.

"You guys ok?" he asked.

"I think we should be asking you that." Nick said slowly.

Greg shoveled another helping of salad in his mouth before saying, "What do you mean?"

"You're eating a salad." Sara said.

"Oh." Greg looked down at his plate. "That's what this is called. I had no idea Sara. Thank you for the enlightenment."

Warrick snorted.

Sara glared at him before turning to Greg. "You had a salad for lunch earlier, too."

"Should I be concerned that you're keeping track of my dietary habits?" Greg smiled.

Giving up, Sara just shrugged it off with, "Nevermind." She slowly stirred her coffee and placed the spoon on the table.

Greg smiled at it for awhile and continued to eat his salad.

After the boys finished their food, and Sara finished her coffee, they each headed to their respective homes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing you recognize._

Turning the key to his home, Greg wore a hopeful smile on his face. Opening the door he realized that she wasn't there. The smile fell as he trudged to the bathroom for a shower. He stopped short when he realized the laptop was on. Greg smirked as he closed the laptop, so as to respect her privacy.

There was still steam on the bathroom mirror and the rugs were still wet. She left not too long ago. And from the absence of the dryer on the counter, Greg knew that her hair was wet. He laughed as he turned on the shower water.

For the first time in a long time, Greg was genuinely happy. Not the kind of happy he felt was his duty to the team, the mask of happiness he wore at work. No, Greg was truly happy.

* * *

She couldn't believe she left home to pick up some damn ice cream. With her hair wet no less! No matter. What was done is done and now she had a great story about a little boy pointing and staring as she shook like a leaf in the frozen food isle.

Stowing the ice cream in the freezer, she walked down the hall to their bedroom. She grinned evilly when she saw that Greg was sleeping. Laying on his back, mouth slightly open, the poor man had no idea that there was a woman standing over him with a pillow in her hands.

She struck, smothering Greg with the pillow. He woke up almost immediately, as if expecting it. Instead of reaching for her arms or hands, he reached for her ribs and started tickling her. The grip on the pillow slipped and Greg could see her clearly now.

_Yep_, he thought. _Her hair's wet_. Greg kept tickling her, her laughter was music to his ears. He pulled her on the bed and tickled her some more.

"Greg, stop please!" She panted. "I can't breathe!"

He stopped, but she kept laughing. Her face was turning red.

"Heather," he said trying to be serious. "I told you not to sneak up on me like that."

She kept giggling as she rolled on her side of the bed.

"You left." Greg mumbled, burying his face in her neck. He didn't mind that it too was wet. "Where did you go?"

"Ice cream."

Greg immediately sat up and looked at her. "What kind?"

A sly grin graced Heather's features. "Cookie dough."

He jumped out of bed. "Why are we laying here and there's ice cream?"

"Greg, come back to bed." Heather said. "That's for when we wake up."

He was conflicted. Cookie dough was Greg's favorite. _Maybe I'll sneak some when she's sleeping_, he thought.

"Don't even thinking about trying to sneak some." Heather grinned. "You know I'm a light sleeper."

Accepting defeat, Greg crawled back in bed. With arms wrapped around each other, they fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: So, this _**isn't**_ a Lady Heather/Greg fic. Sorry for any confusion.

The melodious clickety-click of the laptop keyboard woke Greg up. He smiled into the pillow. Having lived alone for so long had made him used to the quiet. Hearing signs of life reminded him that he was no longer alone. And that thought got him out of bed.

He sleepily traipsed down the hall into the living room, where she was sitting at the computer, typing away.

"Heather."

She looked up at him and smiled. "Hey."

"You're doing it again." Greg accused.

Her smile slowly disappeared as she closed her laptop. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Heather," he sighed, "admission to your addiction is the first step to recovery."

"I don't have an addiction." She said defensively. "I can quit whenever I want."

"Heather, I love you and I want to help you through this hard time."

She took a few deep breaths before she mumbled a bit.

"Speak up, Heather. I can't hear you." Greg said.

He was not expecting her to grab the front of his shirt and yell, "I'm addicted to blogging, ok?!" She shook him. "Help me Greg!"

Without hesitation Greg tilted the desk chair back, picked Heather up bridal style and carried her down the hall. He threw her on the bed and ran back into the living room. Her uncontrollable laughter filled the apartment.

"Let's go to the movies." He said loudly. "Do you have tomorrow off?"

She came down the hall with tears in her blue eyes from laughing too hard. "We really need to stop doing that. The neighbors are going to think we're crazy…oh wait. We are."

Greg snorted. "What movie do you wanna see?"

"Doesn't matter." Heather went into the kitchen. "Are you hungry?"

A thought came to mind. Greg grinned mischievously as he crept up behind her. "Maybe…" He kissed her lips and reveled in the fact that she tasted like…cookie dough? He had another idea. Opening the freezer, he took out the whole carton of ice cream and gave her a look.

"Greg…I don't think I like the way you're looking at me." Heather said slowly.

He said nothing and walked towards her.

"Greg." She warned, backing away.

"I'm giving you a head start." Greg said in a low tone.

Heather turned abruptly. "Shit." She ran to the bedroom with Greg right behind her. The ice cream was still in his hands.

* * *

"Hey Warrick, wait up!"

Warrick turned around to see Greg running to catch up with him. "What's up?" He asked tentatively.

"It's nothing case related, I just wanted to know if we could switch days off." Greg said.

"I do still owe you that favor don't I?" Warrick said more to himself than Greg. "When?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Consider it done." Warrick nodded. "But make sure you tell Grissom. He wouldn't get off my back about not coming in last time."

Greg bowed his head and headed towards his boss' office, singing to himself. "…killed my new boss. Shut that cock up with a rock, non-stop in his face. And what a smug face-"

"Greg?"

He whirled around. Catherine was smirking at him. "Made a new song about Ecklie?"

Greg smiled. "It's a song by The Servant, actually." He thought back to when he first heard of the band and his smile broadened.

"Are you hiding something?" Catherine asked suddenly.

"No." Greg lied, trying to keep a straight face.

Catherine nodded skeptically. "I'm watching you Sanders."

Greg backed away. "Of course you are. How can you not look at all this sexiness?"

"What sexiness?"

He didn't answer and, with a huge grin on his face, knocked on Grissom's office door. The door flung open and Sara marched out, not even acknowledging Greg's presence. Confused, Greg poked his head in the office. Grissom sat at his desk, that same thoughtful look on his face.

"Uh, Griss?" Greg started. "Warrick and I switched days off, so I won't be in tomorrow."

Grissom sighed. "What makes you think that switching days off is ok? Is this some kind of emergency?"

"Warrick owes me." Greg replied.

Grissom waited a moment before asking, "What do you need the day off for?"

It was odd of Grissom to want to know what his employees did after hours. Greg was completely confused. Deciding not to answer the question, he quickly walked away. As soon as he was out of earshot, he called Heather…and told her to pick a damn movie.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing_

Horror. She had decided on horror. Not that Greg was complaining. In his opinion, one could never go wrong with horror. Either it was good and the viewer got a few scares, or it was terrible to the point of being laughable.

After waking up and having some ice cream from a brand new carton, Greg and Heather made their way to the movie theatres. Looking at his watch, Greg was confident that they wouldn't run into any of his coworkers. There was a little over an hour before they would have to clock in.

The ride was fairly quiet until Greg made the mistake of asking what killer Heather disliked the most. She had gone off into a full blown rant about how much she hated Freddy Kruger, a rant that carried on even after they had gotten out the car.

"How rude is that to just show up in dreams and kill people?" Heather asked.

"Oh come on, its genius." Greg argued. "To have a killer that can infiltrate the human subconscious, how is that not brilliant? It's horror on a whole new level."

"It's rude." Heather repeated.

Greg gave her a look. "I didn't know serial killers had manners."

"Oh you didn't? There's special training for it." Heather said brightly. "You can't become a horror film icon without passing the required courses. Clearly Freddy cheated his way through."

Greg laughed and held her hand as they walked to the line to buy their tickets. The conversation changed to Michael Myers and how much he creeps Heather out.

"He just pops up out of nowhere." She said. "And he doesn't run, ever. But he always catches up."

"Maybe he teleports." Greg said off-handedly.

Heather followed him inside the theatres. "Oh, that's just not fair."

"Since when are slasher flicks f-" he stopped talking when something caught his attention. One of the movies had just ended, as a flock of people were exiting one of the theatres. One of those people, Greg saw, was Nick Stokes. His hand was joined with a blonde woman, Greg couldn't see her face. Her hair was in the way.

Panic came over Greg as he looked from Nick to Heather and back again.

"Are you ok?" she asked.

He was about to answer when Nick, somehow feeling eyes on him, looked directly at Greg. They blinked at each other a few times before Nick tapped the shoulder of his date. He whispered a few words in her ear and pointed in Greg's direction. The woman looked up and Greg met eyes with none other than Sofia Curtis. They slowly made their way over to Greg and Heather.

"Greg?" Heather squeezed his hand.

"You are about to meet my coworkers." Greg whispered. He knew something like this was going to happen sooner or later. He was hoping it would be later.

"Hey Greg." Nick greeted. He glanced at Heather and gave her a smile. "What's up?"

"Just enjoying the night off." Greg smiled in Heather's direction. "This is Heather. Heather, this is Nick Stokes and Sofia Curtis."

Pleasantries were exchanged. The group made small talk for a while, mainly asking Heather how she met Greg and how she manages to put up with him. Eventually the conversation came to long pause.

"Well, this has been sufficiently awkward." Heather said, voicing what everyone was thinking. "Popcorn?" she asked Greg. He reached for his wallet but she stopped him. "I got it." She turned back to Sofia and Nick. "It was nice meeting both of you."

Nick didn't say anything until Heather was far enough away to where she couldn't hear them. "How the hell did you snag her?"

Sofia tried not to laugh.

"I could be asking the same thing about you Nick." Greg winked at Sofia. "How long has this been going on?"

"Long enough." She replied quickly.

"Oh, so we're keeping secrets." Greg smirked.

Nick got serious. "Actually Greg, we'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone."

"My lips are sealed." Greg said. "As long as the same goes for you guys. Not a word."

"Ok." Sofia agreed. "In fact, this conversation never happened. Do I know you sir?" she asked Greg.

"I'm sorry, miss. Were you talking to me?"

"You have a good night sir." Nick said playing along. He wrapped an arm around Sofia, gave Greg a wink and the couple left.

Greg sighed out of relief. Out of all the people he worked with, he was glad it had been Nick and Sofia that he had run into. He knew they would keep quiet about it. Chills ran up his spine as he realized he could have run into Brass. Or worse…Catherine. Greg decided then and there that he would have to talk to Heather about being more careful about public appearances.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** _All in due time._

**Disclaimer:**_ I_ _own nothing but the plot. I don't even own Heather…she owns me. LOL_

It was solemn in the locker room. There were no jokes, terrible innuendos or teasing taking place. The team was silent out of respect. They were in mourning. No one was in any particular hurry to leave. Not with Nick just sitting there, just staring into his open locker.

In the end, Catherine and Sara left first, only giving Nick a squeeze on the shoulder and a gentle pat on the back for comfort. Greg and Warrick were left watching Nick struggle to keep from breaking down.

Warrick's phone went off. "Dammit." He hissed, silencing the device. "Nick, man-"

"It's okay." The Texan said softly.

"If you need anything, you let me know." Warrick offered. He nodded to Greg, passing him to get to the exit.

The time got away from them as Greg waited on Nick to make a move. He didn't, so Greg waited some more. A hand gently touched his shoulder and startled Greg. It was Sofia. She smiled sadly at him before sitting next to Nick on the bench. She followed his gaze and just sat there, not saying a word.

Greg took this as his cue to leave. The drive home seemed to take longer than usual. He tried very hard to focus on the road but his mind kept wandering. _What if…what if…what if…_ It haunted him.

He parked the car in his parking spot and rubbed his face with his hands. He wondered how the hell he ended up in such a dangerous profession. He wondered what would happen if-

_Stop_, he told himself. _You're going to make yourself sick._

Making his way to the front door, he sighed deeply. It had been a long day, and he just wanted to forget. He walked in the living room and noticed her on the couch. She was wearing his pajama pants and her Spongebob sweater that she refused to get rid of. Her knees were drawn to her chest and her face was hidden. For a split second he thought she could possibly be asleep until he heard her sniffle.

"Heather?" he said cautiously.

She sniffled again and looked up at him. Those usual bright blue eyes were a sad, cloudy grey. "Hi." She squeaked. "How was your day?" she said, trying to compose herself.

"I'm more concerned about how yours went." He said, joining her on the couch.

"I lost a little girl today." Heather said in a small voice. "She was four years old and probably the bravest little girl I've ever met. She didn't cry or anything."

Greg rubbed circles in her back. "What happened?"

"Drunk driver hit the car she was in." she replied sadly. "The mother died instantly. But that little girl fought to stay alive until she got to the hospital." Tears escaped Heather's eyes. "We tried everything to save her. But there was nothing more we could have done." She smiled down at the floor. "She must have known Greg. She just kind of…held her hand out for me to hold. Her hands were so small…"

Greg pulled her into his arms and let her cry silent tears. He waited a long time before saying, "We lost a patrol officer today." Heather looked up at him. "I didn't know him, not really." He admitted. "He and Nick were really good friends though. He, uh…he had a wife and two boys. Twins." His voice started to shake. "I thought about you. I thought about what would happen if…if I didn't come home one day." Greg took a deep breath to steady himself. "There's always a chance that I won't make it home." Pulling Heather back to him, Greg kissed her forehead gently. "I'm so glad that we tell each other we love each other everyday."

They sat like that for maybe an hour, or maybe ten minutes. They didn't know, but it was Heather that broke the silence. "Greg?"

"Hm?"

"Dance with me."

He stood and pulled her to her feet. Holding each other, they swayed back and forth…to no music.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Do not kill me. And I'm doing it this way for a reason.

Disclaimer: Nuh uh.

"HOLY CRAP! They have yellow leggings in here, Heather!" Jenne squealed. "Yellow!"

Heather rolled her eyes at her friend's excitement. "Jenne Byrd, I don't care." She sighed at Jenne's blank stare and wondered how the hell she was talked into going shopping. "Maybe if I was Lil I would care, but I'm not so I don't."

"Yeah well Lil is in Paris and I needed a new dress for my show by tonight." Jenne dragged Heather in a store. "Grin and bare it."

Instead of following Jenne around, Heather stopped to look at a shirt. She was sure would match a hat Greg had just bought. But she needed a second opinion. However, Jenne's phone decided to ring at that very moment.

"KRIS!" she squealed. "What's up?" The color drained from her face. "Are you sure it was…yeah, she's right here…where? Yeah, ok. Ok." She hung up the phone. "Ok." She took a few deep breaths.

"Jenne? Are you ok?" Heather asked, her eyebrow raised.

Instead of answering, Jenne grabbed Heather's hand and dragged her all the way out of the mall to the parking lot.

"Don't you need a dress?" Heather asked.

Jenne held out her hand. "Give me the keys."

"Why?"

"Oh my God, if you don't give me the damn keys I'm going to beat you with my purse. Give. Me.The. Keys." She insisted.

Heather slapped the keys in Jenne's hand and got in the car. She didn't say anything until she realized Jenne was taking her in the opposite direction of home.

"Where the hell are you taking me?"

Jenne looked over at her friend. In her haste to get to where they needed to go, she had forgotten to explain what was going on.

"I'm going to start talking and I don't want you to interrupt." Jenne took a deep breath. "Kris called. She's at work." This wasn't working. She would have to just spit it out. "Heather, Kris called and she said that they brought someone in and the named sounded familiar so she checked and…" Jenne looked at her friend. "Heather, something happened to Greg."

It wasn't that Heather was holding her breath, she just forgot to breathe. And suddenly, her breathing picked up to a quick pace. "Pull over."

"Heather-"

"Pull over!"

Jenne barely got the car to a stop when Heather jumped out and threw up in the gutter. Her hands shook as she wiped her mouth. Rubbing her hands on her jeans, Heather slid back in the car and told Jenne to floor it all the way to the hospital.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Do not kill me

Disclaimer: Nuh uh.

_**The Night Before**_

"Alright everyone, this is a big, fresh crime scene." Grissom told his team. "They don't know where the suspect is and Brass doesn't think the guy got that far. Stay alert. If your phone rings, you answer it. It's bad enough we're here and they don't know where the suspect is. We're not taking anymore chances."

"I got a bad feeling about this." Nick whispered to Greg.

Greg agreed completely, but didn't say a word. He didn't like the situation. For all they knew the suspect was lurking around the corner. And this estate was huge. The unfortunate task of processing the outside fell on Nick and Greg. They had agreed on playing Marco Polo until more help arrived.

"Marco!" Greg hollered out into the night. He photographed a footprint.

"Polo!" Nick yelled back.

The bushes on the back lawn looked disturbed. Greg took a closer look. "Marco!"

"Polo!"

He kneeled down and noticed blood drops on the dirt. Suddenly, his heart seemed to freeze and he could hear his pulse in his eardrums. The tips of his ear burned. Fear. It seized him, took over his entire being.

"I said Polo!" Nick called in the distance.

Greg slowly stood to his feet. The suspect stood in front of him, his legs hidden behind the bushes. The suspect's skin was sickly pale, except for the splatter crimson in some places, mainly his hands. His eyes were crazy and wild.

"POLO!"

Greg tried to back away slowly, the image of the six victims laying in the living room was fresh in his mind. The suspect leaped over the bush and onto Greg. He stuck the blade into Greg's skin over and over again. Greg tried to cry out, but his attacker's other hand covered his mouth.

"GREG, POLO!" Nick seemed to be a lot closer now.

But Greg couldn't tell. He was blacking out and everything seemed to fade away into the darkness that consumed him. The darkness that he welcomed with one thought…

_Heather._


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** _Sorry to leave you guys hanging for so long._

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing._

She didn't know she could run that fast. If matters were any different she would have been proud of herself. But Greg was the focus, so Heather ran into the hospital like her life depended on it. In a way, it did.

"Whoa Heather, slow down!" said a familiar voice behind her.

Kristen.

"Where is he?" Heather demanded.

"He's in the OR, Heather. Calm do-"

"DON'T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!" Heather boomed.

Jenne slid in behind Heather. "You could have at least let me park the car!"

"No, I want my Greg!" A wave of nausea hit Heather and she ran for the restrooms.

Kris and Jenne shared a look. Clearly they were worried about Greg, but now they were worried about Heather's health as well.

"She looks paler than before." Kris pointed out.

Jenne nodded in agreement as Heather rejoined them.

"Please tell me where Greg is." Heather said shakily.

How was Kris supposed to say no to that?

* * *

They were a somber bunch. Sara bit her nails nervously; her eyes would flash to the operating room doors. Nick leaned against a wall looking up at the ceiling, Warrick sat on the floor beside him, his face between his bent knees. Brass was sure to wear a hole in the floor with his pacing, clenching and unclenching his fists.

Everyone came to attention when they heard heels clicking on the ugly green linoleum. It was Sofia, and she had news. Catherine and Grissom leaned forward in the uncomfortable blue waiting room chairs to listen.

"We got him." She informed them.

"Dead or alive?"

Sofia looked at Nick, a fire in his eyes. "Alive."

"He better hope Greg comes out the same way." Nick said dangerously. "If he doesn't, I swear to God-"

"Nicky." Sofia cut him off and shook her head, mouthing the word 'no'. She sat next to Catherine and asked quietly, "Do we know anything?"

"He was stabbed with the knife that killed six different people, their blood still on it." Catherine answered. "I don't like the idea of Greg getting some type of disease, but-" her voice trailed off.

Quick and scuffled footsteps came towards them. Three women, one wearing mint green scrubs, seemed to be walking with purpose. For a moment, the CSIs thought that the woman in scrubs was going to update them on Greg. But she stopped short, grabbed the shortest woman by her forearm, whispered in her ear and walked back the way she had come.

Sara didn't miss that the shorter woman was looking at Nick. "Friend of yours, Nicky?"

He looked at her curiously before following her gaze. The Heather that he had met at the movies, whose eyes sparkled with excitement and humor, was gone. She was replaced with a pale and shaking shell. Nick quickly made his way over to her and told her what happened in a hushed tone.

"Who's she?" Grissom asked.

"Probably one of Nick's girlfriends." replied Sara.

Catherine caught Warrick's eye and they both glanced at Sofia before looking down at the floor.

The operating room doors opened and everyone's attention was giving to a short nurse. "He's fine." She said quickly. "But we're keeping him over night for some tests." The nurse looked directly at Sara as she spoke. The CSI had already made a scene when she yelled at a different nurse about where Greg had been taken.

"When can we see him?"

Everyone turned to look at Heather. She wasn't shaking as much as she was before, but she was still rather pale.

"What is your relation?" said the nurse rudely.

Heather looked down at the floor. She and Greg had never talked about when would be the right time to tell his friends that he was seeing someone. Now she was placed in this position and she didn't know what to do.

Rolling her eyes, Jenne gently pushed her friend forward. "Tell them…or I will."

Heather finally looked up and staring right into the nurse's eyes said, "I'm Greg's girlfriend."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** _Sorry for taking so long with the update. And thank you for the reviews_

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own anything._

It took awhile for Greg to get his bearings but for the most part he knew he was in the hospital. It was the smell. Way too sterile. The sound of feet hurriedly crossing the floor, the steady beat of machines, and the smell of bleach mixed with latex let him know where he was.

Greg could open his eyes for only a few seconds at a time before they go too heavy. But when he did managed to get them open, he saw her. Heather was sitting in the bedside chair sound asleep, her hand outstretched towards him. Greg tried to reach for her, but he was far too weak. If he focused on her and tuned everything out, he could smell their laundry detergent on her clothes. And that was more comfort than anything he could have asked for.

Slow and steady footsteps entered the room. Greg knew it wasn't the nurses, for their footsteps were hurried. This was someone else. Forcing one eye open he scanned the room and was pleased to see a gap toothed smile. Greg returned the smile weakly and shut his eye.

He felt a light squeeze on his shoulder, followed by the same slow and steady footsteps leaving the room.

* * *

When Greg woke again, Heather was gone. Some of his strength was back though. To keep himself entertained, Greg began counting the tiles on the ceiling when his previous visitor returned.

"Hey Greg." Sara said softly. Her smile was wide.

"Hey." Greg said in a raspy voice. Clearing his throat he asked, "Where is she?"

The smile on Sara's face widened. "Her friend made her go home. She hasn't left your side."

Greg silently thanked which ever crazy friend that made Heather go home. She needed rest, and not just in uncomfortable hospital chairs. At the same time he couldn't help but wonder when she left…and when she would come back.

"I'm happy for you." Sara said sincerely. "She really loves you."

That made Greg feel like explaining himself. "I was trying to protect her."

"What do you mean?" Sara asked. She frowned as she realized what he was talking about. "From what?"

"You know what we do for a living, Sara. It's…morbid. I didn't want her affected by that, ya know? When I come home from a really shitty day, do you know what she does to make it better? Nothing. Heather is just herself. I didn't want to taint that, Sara. She's-"

"Your safe place to land." Sara finished for him. Her gaze shifted to the floor.

Greg just looked at her, an incredulous look on his face. How could she know that?

There was a knock on the door, breaking the silence.

"Hey Greg."

"Grissom." Greg greeted with a nod.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as he leaned on the doorframe.

"I'm ready to bust outta this joint. Did you come to sneak me out?" Greg asked hopefully.

Grissom smirked. "No, but I'm glad you're feeling better."

The conversation carried on and somehow drifted towards the latest lab incident. Sara couldn't stop laughing as she told Greg about an experiment that went wrong, leaving Catherine with no shoes, one sock and Grissom hiding from her for an entire shift.

Through their laughter, he felt her presence. Looking out towards the hall, Greg saw Heather's pretty face. Her eyes were sparkling once again and a grin graced her lips. In his eyes, she was glowing, even though she seemed a bit paler than usual.

"Um," Sara felt that it was time to take her leave. "I'll see you later Greg." She smiled down at him and squeezed his hand comfortingly. Grissom followed her out, giving Greg a nod goodbye.

Greg followed them with his eyes and smiled with understanding as Grissom guided Sara with his hand on her lower back.

"They are so gettin' it on." Heather said casually. The sound of his chuckle warmed her heart. She sat on the edge of the bed and ran her fingers through his hair.

Greg closed his eyes at her touch. The smell of their laundry detergent filled his nostrils again and he wrapped an arm around her. He rubbed his thumb against her ribs.

"That tickles." Heather said softly.

"You like it." mumbled Greg with a smile, eyes still closed.

The sarcastic reply that Greg was waiting for did not come.

"Mr. Sanders?" A doctor walked in the room, a chart in his hand.

Greg opened his eyes. "What's up Doc?" Heather snorted.

"Well, I have your blood results." The doctor looked at him over his glasses, waiting for some kind of reaction.

Heather broke the silence. "Do you think maybe you could break with the dramatics and tell us the damn results?"

The doctor smiled at her and said, "The tests came back negative. No diseases."

Greg let that sink in. "So I'm good to go? I'm not gonna need to come back later because a limb fell off right?"

"No, Mr. Sanders. You're fine."

"I can go home then?" Greg looked at Heather. "Where can I get some discharge papers? Because right now all I want is my woman, a carton of ice cream and to sleep in my own bed."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** _I love you guys. Seriously, you rock._

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing!_

The sun warmed Greg's face as he exited the lab. It was his first day back since being in the hospital. Word had spread around the lab that he was seeing someone, though thankfully, no names were named. In celebration of his return, Grissom proposed that the team have breakfast together on him. But there was a catch. Heather had to join them. Greg was not one to pass up a free meal but he was a bit uneasy about Heather being around his friends. They had a habit of prying and asking too many questions.

One of them, in particular, was leaning against her car, laughing with Warrick Brown. Greg was hesitant, for he did not want to break up the moment. But this conversation needed to happen before they arrived at the diner. With the façade of confidence in place, Greg walked over to Catherine and Warrick.

"Uh, hey." He greeted.

"What's up Greg?" Warrick smiled.

"Headed to the diner?" Catherine asked

"Yeah, um about that…" Greg looked from Warrick to Catherine and back.

Warrick took the hint. "I'll see you guys there." He patted Greg on the back and headed in the direction of his car.

Catherine stood up straight. "You wanted to talk to me?" She didn't seem surprised. "Let me guess, you want me to be nice."

"Well…I mean…not that you would-"

Catherine chuckled and put her hand on his arm. "Look, I know I can be a pain sometimes. But, since she means so much to you, I'll play nice." She smirked. "I can't make any promises for next time though."

"That's the best deal I can get." Greg held out his hand to shake on it. Catherine accepted it, albeit while giggling, and got in her car.

* * *

Greg was lost for most of the conversation. His eyes would keep flashing to the diner parking lot, waiting for her to arrive. Finally, a red Honda pulled in and Greg smiled to himself. He gave Catherine a pointed look as the bell over the diner door jingled. She just smiled and winked at him as Heather approached.

Greg stood to let her slide in next to Sara.

"What?" Brass looked at the couple. "No kiss?"

"Jim." Catherine warned. Brass grinned and bowed his head in her direction. Apparently, if Catherine wasn't teasing, there would be none at all.

Masterfully, Greg and Heather deflected personal questions as if they had rehearsed it. They quickly changed the subject when the conversation steered onto…uncomfortable subjects. Greg knew they were getting it easy and for that he was grateful.

The arrival of their meals proved to be more effective in keeping the focus off the couple. Everyone was too busy eating. Greg, however, was not too busy to notice Heather's hand sneak over to his plate and steal a piece of his bacon. As if in slow motion, he watched her take a bite.

Heather could feel his eyes on her, so she turned to look at him. His mouth was slightly agape, but he wasn't necessarily looking at her. He was looking at her hand. Following his gaze, she nearly dropped the bacon. She had taken a bite and had not even noticed what she had done.

Heather is a vegetarian. She quickly placed the bacon back on Greg's plate and stared at the grease on her fingers for the rest of breakfast. No one else noticed.

When the bill arrived, everyone, except Grissom and Sara, stood to leave.

"So Heather, got any plans for Thursday next week?" asked Catherine.

Still a bit shocked from the bacon incident, Heather snapped back to reality. "Uh…no? Why?"

"It's Brass' birthday and we go to dinner every year…on him." Warrick explained. "Do you wanna come?"

Heather shrugged. "Sure."

"Love the enthusiasm." Brass winked at her and bid everyone goodbye.

Warrick walked Catherine to her car, who was parked right next to him.

"I'll see you at work." Nick said to Greg. "I hope to see you sooner than later." He said to Heather with a smile.

"Did you just flirt with her in front of me?" Greg asked. "I'm telling on you."

Nick laughed as he walked away.

Greg pulled Heather close to him. "Are you ok?"

"Uh huh."

"Are you sure? I mean you ate-"

Heather cut him off. "I know what I ate Greg. I was there when I ate it. Remember?" she smiled and kissed his cheek. "I'll see you at home. I have to go to the store first."

"Well what are you getting? I'll go." Greg offered.

"No…no. I'll go. Go home." She patted his arm and left him standing there.

* * *

Just like Heather had hoped, Greg was asleep by the time she got home. His snores could be heard from the living room. She quietly, but quickly, headed straight for the bathroom. Exiting, she changed into one of Greg's big t-shirts and slid into bed next to him. Heather stared at the ceiling for a long time before drifting off to a contemplative sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** _Thanks guys!_

**Disclaimer:** _Nuh uh._

It was a smell that woke her up. Her eyes snapped open once she realized what the smell was. And she wanted some…badly. There was only one obstacle she had to tackle first. Quickly getting out of bed, Heather made her way to the bathroom. When she was done she put on some of Greg's sweatpants and went to the kitchen.

Greg was just taking some chicken out of the oven. He placed the food on the counter next to the stove, completely unaware that his every move was being watched. Opening the fridge, Greg took out a head of lettuce and put it on the chopping board. He methodically cut up the lettuce and placed it in a big bowl. Again reaching the in fridge, Greg took out a package of pre-shredded cheddar cheese. He mixed it in the bowl, and Heather realized that he was making a salad…just for her.

"Are you feeling better?" Greg asked. Something must have alerted him to her presence, for she had not made a sound. "I made some broccoli too, if you want some." He looked at her and smiled. "It's crunchy like you like it."

Smiling shyly at him, Heather looked down at her bare feet. The smell of food was still in her nostrils, so she looked at the chicken on the counter. It looked ridiculously delicious and she bit her lip.

"You want some." Greg said.

"How would you feel if I changed my eating habits?" she asked timidly.

"That's up to you." Greg said slowly. He raised an eyebrow. "Why does my opinion matter?"

She bit her lip again. _Well_, she thought, _might as well say it_. "I'm pregnant with your kid Greg. Congratulations, your 'fish' swim."

Just like she had expected, Greg's jaw dropped. His brow was furrowed and he looked at her with squinted eyes. _Did she just_…_when?_…And then it made sense. Her pale, but glowing, skin…the nausea…the need to pee a bit more often than usual. Oh yeah, Heather was with child.

"When…how…"

"Well, I'm guessing a few weeks ago. As far as the how…well Greg, when a man and woman love each other-"

Greg chuckled and held up his hands to silence her. "I get it, I get it." He smiled at her, and Heather didn't miss the twinkle in his eye. "I'm gonna be a dad."

"Yeah…"

Greg frowned. "You don't seem too happy about it."

"I can barely form a sentence with an adult. What the hell am I going to say to a kid? I never really saw myself as 'mom' material…"

"We'll learn together." He said soothingly. "You don't want this?"

Heather looked at him like he lost his mind. "Um…HELL YES! You're stuck with me now Sanders. You're trapped! I'm carrying your seed!" She giggled.

"I don't mind being stuck with you." He hugged her close, nudging her neck with his nose. "So you're pregnant, huh?"

"I didn't stutter." Heather whispered softly.

"Are you sure? I think I wanna make sure."

Pulling away from him Heather looked Greg in the eye.

"Should I get the ice cream?" he asked, wagging his eyebrows.

"No." Heather answered quickly, backing away. "It's too cold and that's probably what got me in this situation in the first place."

Greg smiled wickedly and stepped back in front of the fridge, reaching for the freezer handle.

"Oh shit." Heather dashed down the hallway to the bedroom.

Laughing, Greg followed her, leaving the ice cream in the freezer.

* * *

_**Yeah, that's the end. Possibly may do a sequel. Let me know what you think. Thanks for sticking with me. :)**_


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